


The Thought That Counts

by flightofwonder



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fix-it fic, Gen, M/M, but cmon we all wanted it, for literally a 30 second commerical, takes place the christmas before natm3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:55:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9038567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightofwonder/pseuds/flightofwonder
Summary: Maybe Larry's gift to Ahkmenrah wasn't what it appeared to be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is!! My natm secret santa gift for my constantly high angel aka Anna aka ameliagayhart (on tumblr) aka mothmansgirlfriend!!! I hope you like it!

Ahkmenrah was not pouting.

Because Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King, ruler of the land of his fathers, did not pout.

Sure, his arms were crossed and his mouth was in a tight line as Larry put the – what was it? Some sort of pillow in the shape of a bear? – on his neck, but that was simply because he was a Pharaoh, regal and refined at all times, as he was trained to be. (Luckily, even in such a stewing state, he had the sense not to say so aloud, because Larry and anyone else in the vicinity would surely call him a blatant liar, with plenty of evidence to prove their case.)

As Larry snapped the tag off, Ahkmenrah refused to budge, continuing to stare straight ahead. He heard the man beside him sigh.

“It was supposed to be a joke. Well, not really a joke, more like – a precursor? Like, I’d give you this, we’d laugh at how ridiculous it is, and – but then, you threw this, um, staff of the son god at me, and, I mean, it’s really cool, and beautiful, but it’s – a _lot_ , and it’s hard to follow up something like that --“

Ahkmenrah sagged his shoulders as a pang of regret hit him. At the time, he hadn’t considered the monetary value of giving his loved one the artifact, instead focused on what its gifting represented: _You’re now my family_. He had thought that had been clear enough.

But not looking past the sentimental value was something Larry couldn’t afford, not with a child he had to put through a ridiculously debt-crippling college very soon. Not only that, but he had given up his own financial empire for the safety and well-being of all in the museum, Ahkmenrah included.

In this light, he understood how completely unfair he’d been to Larry, which was the last thing he wanted to be.

“Larry –“ he started to interrupt Larry’s rambling, grabbing the hand that was still nervously fiddling with the edge of the neck pillow and holding it tight. “Forgive me. It’s…very…comfortable.”

He peered down at the cotton ears on his shoulder in a way that he hoped came off as endeared instead of distasteful. He was reminded of the time Teddy had given Nicky his Bar Mitzvah gift: a book all about him and his achievements, purchased at the museum gift shop (without Sacagawea’s knowledge). The boy looked like he had just swallowed sand. He didn’t even bother to hide the disappointment in his voice as he looked at the former president and said -- “Well, it’s the thought that counts?”

(Larry subsequently made Nicky apologize for being rude, and ‘Wea made Teddy return the gift with the promise that the _two_ of them would find something more suitable for the occasion for Nicky on their next opportunity to leave the museum.)

Ahkmenrah hoped he did a better job of hiding his disappointment than the thirteen-year-old boy had, though thinking on his initial reaction to Larry’s gift, he rather doubted it. Shame came over him like a wave, and he was about to apologize to his lover again – his _lover_ , honestly, he was acting like a petulant boy instead of a man worthy of Larry’s attention – but much to Ahkmenrah’s confusion, Larry was cracking a smile.

“Don’t apologize. Just – come with me.”

He pulled the Pharaoh up to his feet with the hand that was still clasped between them. Making to move, he then paused and look at the bejeweled staff he held in his other hand, as if he just realized he was still holding it. He tilted it one way, then the other, barely grasping it and keeping it at an arm’s length in a way that made his discomfort rather obvious, and caused Ahkmenrah to crack a smile despite himself. He must have been debating whether to leave or take it because he ultimately decided on the latter and, still holding onto Ahkmenrah with easy familiarity, started to walk towards the grand staircase.

Ahkmenrah could see when they arrived at the landing that a few exhibits were gathered by the pagan tree: Attila was enthusiastically embracing Teddy, while Sacagawea did absolutely nothing to intervene, and two dots signifying Jedediah and Octavius sat with swinging legs on the nearby table. Nearby, the menorah was completely lit where it stood near the clear front door, which was closest thing the main hall had to a window. Most of the exhibits didn’t pay much attention to the holidays, since many had their own religions and rituals to complete, which Larry let them do so freely (while forbidding any animal or human sacrifice, of course). Ahkmenrah and their small knitted group celebrated Christmas secularly, which Ahkmenrah was told was the norm nowadays anyway, and joined in lighting the menorah with Larry when he was here to do so. In truth, their small group had adapted to celebrating this time of year for young Nick’s sake, who was a child of both faiths and was very eager to introduce them all to the many celebrations that both entailed. As Nicky grew, it felt natural to continue to use the time to exchange gifts and spend time together.

But tonight, Nicky was not among the gathered few. This year, the last day of Hanukkah landed on Christmas Eve. Ahkmenrah knew Larry was never happy when the two holidays overlapped, having complained thoroughly about his and Erica’s confusing custody agreement for who Nicky spent holidays with. Apparently, at first it was simple, since Larry was the only one of the two of them who celebrated Christmas, and the only complications arose as to how to divide Hanukkah between them both. But since his ex-wife remarried a Christian husband, they now wanted Nicky to spend some Christmases with them as well. The sometimes-overlapping holidays on years like these just made it all the more confusing and frustrating. Ahkmenrah had heard the whole spiel from Larry many times this year, particularly because he ended up losing the argument and Erica and her husband got Nicky for the last day of Hanukkah _and_ Christmas Eve Mass.

All Ahkmenrah could do was be a shoulder and an ear to him, as well as occasionally remind him when he got too wound up and defensive that nothing good came out of treating Nicky like a prize. Besides, Nick was coming of age where he’d soon have to make those decisions on his own. It still knocked him like a blow at time to realize that the child he once met all those years ago was now a young man, and he couldn’t repress his fondness and nostalgia at the thought. It couldn’t compare to what Larry must have been feeling, particularly this year.

Ahkmenrah’s gift was supposed to help Larry feel better, to perhaps bring some joy in the face of his son’s gaping absence. _Instead, I managed to make him feel worse_ , he thought, self-pity rearing its head once again.

 But as Larry led him along and the din of the main lobby faded, his moping turned into his natural inclination for curiosity. What Larry was hiding in this part of the museum, he couldn’t fathom. As they walked by more and more rooms, more and more his internal guesses were proved false.

When he finally stopped, Ahkmenrah felt his stomach clench. It never even occurred to him that this would be the final destination.

The dead – or undead, as it were -- should be comfortable in their final resting place, but Ahkmenrah held no such regard for his own tomb for a very long time now. Even before…well, a certain dark section in the span of his immortal life, he didn’t hold much affection for it. Although his parents were a welcome presence (for a time), every night spent in his tomb felt more like slow suffocation than a place of miracles.

Of course, that was before he _truly_ knew the meaning of the word.

Larry, ever attune to every part of Ahkmenrah’s body language, gently tugged him forward with their intertwined hands, coaxing him to the center of the room.

“It’s okay,” Larry said, and Ahkmenrah found his stiff spine giving way to movement under Larry’s familiar and calming reassurance; a reminder that the time for suffering had long since passed. And that was due to Larry himself.

His eyes locked to the center of the room, where his sarcophagus lay open, waiting. Larry had asked him once if it was okay for him to make some changes to it, and his response that been that he and all the world could crush it to dust and he’d be all the happier for it. That was perhaps the first time Larry had heard resentment from his lips, perhaps even hatred.

That hadn’t deterred him. Within Ahkmenrah’s first year of the museum, Larry had installed a device which allowed him to open the coffin while he was inside. It resulted in his first enthusiastic, if not terribly clumsy, kiss from Ahkmenrah. The force and surprise of it almost caused them both to fall off the first steps, and Larry barely caught himself but couldn’t avoid banging his head on a pillar, but after initial concerns had passed, Ahkmenrah hadn’t much cared, the gratitude and affection for the other man that had been building for months finally reaching fruition. He smiled at the memory – one of the few that this cursed room held.

Despite that, and the measure of comfort and control that opening the sarcophagus himself gave him, Ahkmenrah never felt at ease when he had to return to it. It was a necessary evil, something he bore with as much courage and dignity as he could, locking himself into his own coffin as morning approached. No matter what happiness and freedom he experienced in the museum, at the end of it, he always had to return to confines of the unrelenting darkness.

Which was why dread mingled with confusion as Larry led him even closer to it. His lover was hardly unfamiliar with his plight, having calmed him during his “panic attacks”, as he called him – something that still brought him a small measure of embarrassment, though Larry constantly reassured him he had no reason to be.

So why he would bring him here as some manner of a gift went against all he knew about the man. Larry Daley was not inconsiderate, and certainly not cruel.

But still, he asked the impossible.

“Can you…go inside for a sec?”

He might as well have asked him to jump off the roof of this very museum, and he knew it, because as soon as Ahkmenrah let go of his hand, the other man was already grabbing his shoulder, turning him so that they were facing each other. Ahkmenrah complied, ever the grains of sand under Larry’s waves, but he refused to look him in the eye. This betrayal stung more than he could have imagined it would, and even though anger should have been forthcoming, it was stunted by hurt instead.

“Hey – Ahk, hey.” A warm palm touched his cheek, and he shivered with delight involuntarily. “Ahkmenrah, look at me. Do you trust me?”

“With my life.” The words came out unbidden, the most natural thing in the world. Larry had already saved him more times than he could count, saved them all. His eyes finally met Larry’s, pools of beauty and softness and concern, and he remembered what he always knew: this man would never do anything to wrong him. Especially in this.

He closed his eyes and nodded. He then climbed into his sarcophagus unassisted, and closed his eyes as the love of his life lowered the seal. The trust and love he had for Larry was immediately at war with the anxiety building in his breast, his non-existent heart pulsing at a higher rate as he slightly struggled for breath. The same reaction he had ever night for the past eight years.

A muffed voice came from outside the tomb: “Open your eyes.”

He couldn’t, not even in the days after he was free of his suffocating wrappings, he couldn’t open his eyes and be met with cold stone and unforgiving darkness, he couldn’t wake from his wonderful dream and be all alone, fated to suffer but never die, over and over and over again, he didn’t want to open his eyes and see –

Sky.

As his eyes opened the rest of the way, they confirmed what his mind thought surely to be impossible. All he saw above him was sky. And clouds, moving slowly, and even a bird moving between them. And  then, he could _hear_ the wind, and the bird’s distant call. For a few seconds, he believed he wasn’t inside a tomb at all. That, somehow, Larry had brought his own magic to the museum.

By the time he realized what it was, he was reaching for the old latch and swinging it open calmly instead of with dread and panic. It was a screen, like the one they had out in the lobby, but the proximity and size had tricked his mind into believing it was real. Not only that, there were small speakers inside, too, as well as a string of lights. The individual components were simple, but with them, Larry had done the impossible. Ahkmenrah couldn’t bring himself to do anything but sit there, stunned.

“Is it okay? I mean, yeah, no, it’s not horrible is it? It’s, uh, on a timer, so it will turn on and off automatically, and I can take it out for inspections and stuff, but if it’s stupid, or – you’re being very quiet, and yeah, quiet isn’t really your style when you’re upset, but are you? It’s just that –“

Ahkmenrah ran forward to crush the other man in a fierce, long hug that halted his nervous blabbering. Dipping his nose into the crevice of Larry’s neck, he pulled him as close as he could, as if he could will their bodies to be as shared as their hearts were.

“Larry,” he whispered, awestruck, while refusing to release his lover, “It’s – I don’t have words. Thank you. _Thank you._ ”

When, finally, he could stand to break apart, he was smiling so hard it almost hurt his cheeks. Larry’s own laughter lines appeared, and Ahkmenrah had to stop himself from kissing the light traces of them at the sight of his grin. He wanted to kiss every inch of Larry, surround himself with nothing but him, and let himself drown.

He moved to intertwine his fingers with his, but noticed that Larry was still holding that accursed staff. At the sight, his own smile turned wry.

“Now I fear I’m the one who looks thoughtless. No gold or silver could compare to your priceless gift.”

Larry twisted his face and choked halfway on a sound in his throat, which Ahkmenrah knew meant he was physically holding back a snort.

“Yeah, about that,” he started, twisting the staff back and forth, “I’m honored, really, but I can’t…actually accept it? And not ‘cause I don’t want it. I mean, I _literally_ can’t take it. This is museum property. If they catch me with this, I’ll be put in jail for, uh, life. Probably.”

…Oh. He certainly hadn’t considered that.

All Larry could do was look at him with a sheepish grin and say:

“It’s the thought that counts?”

Nothing but silence passed for a few moment. Then, with peering eyes and a puffed-up chest, Ahkmenrah responded in his best Pharaoh-like tone:

“Shut up.”

The laughter was instantaneous.  When Ahkmenrah half-irritatedly swung his cape in response, the laughter only grew – which may or may not have been the intended effect (“You look like a pissed off peacock” Larry had explained between chortles the first time he had done so) – but Ahkmenrah could not act disgruntled in earnest for very long at all, and was soon joining him in obnoxiously loud giggles.

By the time both of them had calmed down, they were leaning on each other, holding onto each-others’ arms tight. Ahkmenrah looked up, and wondered if the sight of Larry’s smile would ever fail to blossom warmth deep in his chest. If so, he hoped never to see that day.

“I suppose I’ll have to get you something better,” Ahkmenrah said, his apology apparent but with sneaking playfulness as his hands moved to the other man’s neck. “But in the meantime, this will have to suffice.”

He moved to catch his lips with his, the corners of his own still turned upwards in a smile. If he were to live another four thousand years, nothing on earth could match the sensation of kissing Larry. It was not something he wished to live without.

As they broke apart, Larry leaned forward so that their foreheads touched, and he closed his eyes. In that moment, Ahkmenrah wished they never had to move from that very spot. This was all he ever needed.

He felt Larry shake his head, and although he couldn’t see, he knew that his lover was smiling.

“There is nothing better.”


End file.
